


Lighting Candles

by wenwen



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Coming of Age, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Growing Up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:27:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28037673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wenwen/pseuds/wenwen
Summary: Victory meant this: inevitably, imminently, Zuko would become the Fire Lord.  When the embers burn out and the ashes settle following the defeat of Lord Ozai, finding peace in the Fire Nation Royal Palace feels impossibly empty.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 9
Collections: SHIP WARS Secret Santa 2020





	Lighting Candles

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hmweasley](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hmweasley/gifts).



In the evening, Zuko stood in the courtyard and watched the sun set over Caldera City. He'd seen this view ten thousand times, but the familiar sight could not quell his unease.

For all the time he'd spent in exile, this had always been his home. But home had meant his father and Azula, for better or worse. He was alone, now, and he had done that. His father was in chains; Azula imprisoned outside the city. Despite what had happened in the past, Zuko, as it turned out, had been the one with the resolve stronger than blood.

That tasted bittersweet, at best. 

Zuko's claim to the throne, he knew, was precarious. At least his father had still been the heir to the throne when he ascended -- Zuko was a disowned, twice-banished traitor prince who had interrupted the coronation of Ozai's declared heir. The Fire Nation would not accept his rule so easily. 

The Fire Nation, the Fire Nation. Zuko needed to stop its destructive sprawl, to bring his people back home where they belonged, to fix what had broken between them and the other nations. He had no idea how to do this. Fire was ever easy to use for destruction -- much less so to build with. It weighed on his shoulders and dragged on the corners of his mind and wouldn't allow him a moment's rest. 

Just the other day, he’d received a long and rather rambling letter from Aang, who was helping rebuild the government in the Earth Kingdom, which boiled down to informing him of the impending extradition of Zuko's father back to the Fire Nation.

Zuko took a deep breath, lifting his eyes to the horizon, then turned and headed back inside. 

Zuko's footsteps echoed in the shadowed halls of the palace. His family had never been rowdy, but since Ozai had taken most of the royal guards with the rest of the Fire Nation's troops to march on the Earth Kingdom and Azula had fired just about everyone else, the palace was all but abandoned. The rooms sat dark and empty, untouched even by the setting sun beyond the walls. There were no servants passing discreetly at the edges, no one to tend the fires in the kitchens nor the battered shrubbery of the gardens. In fact, save the guards posted at the outskirts of the palace, there was no one here but Zuko.

"Haven't you guys heard of lamps?"

And now, one other person. 

"One of the servants usually goes around and replaces them when they're burning low," said Zuko. His feet carried him automatically to where the nearest should have been, but he found only a circular oil stain. 

He lit a flame in his cupped hand instead and held it up as he turned. The dancing flicker washed out parts of Katara's face and threw shadows over others. 

"If your servants aren't firebenders, wouldn't it be easier for you to light the candles?" Katara pointed out, drawing closer to him. 

"My father would call it a waste of bending," Zuko said, grimacing. 

Katara glanced at him sideways as she drew a candle from her satchel. "You're not your father," she observed as he tipped his hand to touch his flame to her wick. "It doesn't matter what he thinks."

Zuko, cognizant that he had for so long sought his father's favour, said nothing. He let the fire in his hand wink out as the glow of Katara's candle brightened. "You don't have to stay here," he said.

"I just got here, and you're already kicking me out?" Katara scoffed. "You're the one who invited me here."

"That was before." Zuko ran a hand through his hair absently. "I didn't fully understand the situation yet."

Katara wasn't impressed. "Ha. You'll have to try harder than that."

"I told you -- it's not safe here," Zuko insisted. "It would be better for you to stay outside the palace, at least."

Katara frowned at him. "Then why're you still here?"

Because where Zuko went, the danger followed. Because here, at least, Zuko held the advantage of home ground. "I'm going to be the Fire Lord," Zuko answered. "The people have to see that I'm strong and confident enough to lead."

"You've been here for three days," she said, eyes narrowed. "How many times has someone tried to kill you already?"

Who was counting, honestly? Zuko sure wasn't. They hadn't been very good attempts either. Zuko'd just batted the perpetrators around some and then carted them out to the perimeter to hand them over to the guards. It wasn't a big deal. 

"Not that many," he answered when he realized that he'd let the silence drag on too long. Katara was watching him with increasingly concerned eyes. 

Katara sighed. "I'm sorry I couldn't be here faster, but they needed all hands with the healers at the prison," she said, blunt. "And I'm sorry you had to deal with all that by yourself."

"That's not what I -- " Zuko started. 

"When's the last time you slept?" Katara interrupted. 

"I napped this morning," Zuko defended. Technically, he had accidentally dozed off while sorting through some of his father's papers, but she didn't need to know that. 

Katara narrowed her eyes. "When's the last time you ate?"

"Three hours ago," Zuko shot back. Drinking tea counted as eating. 

"Right," decided Katara. "Well, I'm starving. Which way's the kitchen?"

"I -- turn right, down the hallway, second door on the left?" Zuko said automatically. "What're you doing?"

Katara didn't even glance over her shoulder as she started down the hall. "I said, I'm starving. I'm gonna make dinner."

Zuko, who had spent much of the past three days in silence and solitude, found himself quite unable to deter Katara from her course and drifted in her wake like a turtleduck. He wasn't sure he wanted to, anyways. 

Katara raided the food stores with brisk efficiency, unearthing a large soup pot, tofu, whole frozen fish, and a pile of only slightly wilted vegetables. She ignored the rack of fancy knives and instead pulled one of flint from her boot to scale and clean the fish.

Zuko leaned over the counter. "What do you need me to do?"

Katara pointed with her knife. "I need you to sit there and make sure the pot doesn't boil over."

Zuko knew when he was being patronized. He also didn't have the energy to care. He perched on a stool next to the stove and watched Katara work. 

He didn’t often see her cook. Normally, when they’d made camp for the night, everyone’d had their own tasks to do. Here, however, it was just the two of them, and he could see the ease with which she handled the knife, taking off the scales with quick, light flicks. Her blade flashed in the firelight as it slid through the fish, deftly slicing the head from the rest of the body.

The head went in a bowl with rice wine and salt. The body went on a plate with grated ginger in the steamer basket of Zuko’s pot. “I’ve never seen you make this before,” he noted aloud as Katara poured oil and the fish head into a wok. 

“We make it all the time in the Southern Water Tribe,” Katara said, turning back to chop the vegetables. “I haven’t had the chance to lately, though.” She slid an amused glance sideways at Zuko. “Aang’s vegetarian,” she said, as if he wouldn’t have known that after months of travelling together.

“Yeah,” Zuko said wryly. “I got that.” 

The low light didn’t seem to impede her at all as she worked her way through the pile of vegetables. In the wok, the oil hissed and crackled, but besides that and the rhythmic thunk of Katara’s knife, the kitchen was silent. Almost peaceful. 

“You’re leaving soon,” said Zuko into the almost-silence. 

Katara’s knife paused before regaining its rhythm. "Sokka and I have to go home," she said. "We've been away so long, and our father can finally come with us." 

"Oh, I didn't mean -- " Zuko stumbled over his words. "Of course you should go home. I'm happy for you."

Katara pursed her lips, adding ginger, green onion, and water to the wok amidst the billowing steam. "It's not for another couple of days," she said. "It'll take some time for my father's ship to get here."

Silence fell on them again. Zuko closed his eyes and berated himself for making the space between them so stilted. 

When he opened them he was horizontal, lying on a padded bench with a blanket tucked around him. He struggled upright, blinking groggily, and saw that the kitchen fires had been extinguished. 

"You fell asleep," Katara observed, perched on the counter across from him with her legs swinging free over the edge. "You fell asleep, sitting up, next to a stove with a boiling pot."

Zuko grimaced, running a hand through his hair. "How long was I out?" he croaked. 

"Forty minutes? An hour?" guessed Katara. "The soup's gone cold, but that shouldn't be too much of a problem for you." She nudged the bowl next to her closer to the edge of the counter.

Zuko took it, bringing the warmth of fire to the surface of his skin to reheat the food. He noticed with chagrin that Katara had not only ladled out a bowl of the fish head soup, but picked out the flesh from the steamed fish for him. He snagged the container of fire pepper flakes from next to the stove and automatically dumped a healthy amount into the soup. 

Katara raised an eyebrow.

“Oh -- it’s not your cooking,” Zuko assured her, glancing at the pepper shaker in his hand. “It’s a cultural thing. I swear.”

Katara lifted her eyes to stare at the ceiling dramatically. “Yeah, yeah,” she said. “Ruin the food, why don’t you.” 

“No, look -- ” Zuko said. “It’s -- it's comfort food. Uh, not that yours is bad -- ”

"Relax," said Katara. "I think all the assassination attempts are getting to you. Just eat your ridiculously spicy food. No one's gonna get near you while I'm around."

Zuko, having spent the past year fighting against and then with Katara, believed her. But Katara couldn’t stay, and when she left, Zuko felt like a deserted island in the middle of the ocean. 

The Fire Nation's government had always, historically, been a stratocracy. A week after his father's defeat, Zuko summoned his generals and commanders and their advisors to the palace's war room. Not many of them actually showed up; some had been casualties of war and others were undoubtedly refusing to acknowledge Zuko's authority. Those that did attend did not have the same sort of deference towards Zuko as they had his father.

Zuko didn't elevate himself on the dias behind a wall of flame. He stood at the table with the council, shoulders stiff as they pushed back against everything he said. 

"We'll need a full review of the prisons to determine who's been wrongfully detained," he said, and braced himself for the backlash. Five hours in and this was only the third thing on the list of topics he needed to cover, after his claim to power and their new international diplomatic stance. 

"Absurd!" General Zhi-Yang sputtered, throwing his hands in the air. "We have far too many prisons and prisoners to check all of them."

"You will do a full review," Zuko said, gritting his teeth. "All prisoners of war will be returned to their nations immediately. Those arrested for petty crime, perceived slights, and political offences will be pardoned. You _will_ make this happen."

"Those are criminals!" General Kazo protested. "If we release them, they'll only tarnish our society and terrorize our people." A general murmur of agreement and nods swept around the table.

"In the past hundred years, the ones doing the terrorizing were our own soldiers," Zuko retorted. "Do you want to throw our entire army in prison?"

General Kazo subsided into disgruntlement. General Zhi-Yang glared at the table. 

Advisor Mori put up a tentative hand. Resisting the urge to sigh, Zuko nodded at her. "Sir, ah -- logistically, that would be a nightmare to organize and manage on such short notice, and potentially dangerous for us. Perhaps we can design a plan to gradually release prisoners of war from the prisons, beginning with those of lowest threat -- "

“Some of the people in our prisons were born, lived their entire lives, and died there through no fault of their own,” Zuko cut her off. “People have been torn away from their families for decades for the crime of defending their rightful homes, and many will never return.” He paused. “Let them be freed. The Fire Nation has enough blood on our hands.”

Silence greeted his words, subdued more than rebellious. 

"We'll stop here for today," Zuko said. His father was supposed to be arriving later that day. "I expect reports on your progress from all of you tomorrow."

The council filed out of the room in twos and threes, heads close together as they murmured. Zuko stood alone and watched them go, and only after the great doors shut after them did he allow his shoulders to slump.

“What up, Sparky?”

Zuko whirled, launching the fireball at his fingertips before he could stop himself. “Oh, sh -- ”

Toph stomped her foot, and a pillar of stone carried her out and out of the way of the flames. "Ha!" she crowed. "Won't get me twice with that."

Zuko's heart thrummed like a hummingbird's at the close call. "Sorry, I didn't mean to -- what are you doing here? How did you get past the guards?

Toph snorted. "They're not very good guards," she commented, propping her chin on her hand. "It's like they're trying to get you killed or something."

That…was possible. Even if the Fire Nation wouldn't accept a Fire Lord who couldn't bend, Azula's claim to the throne was arguably stronger than Zuko's. While Azula herself wouldn't try to have Zuko killed, those who supported her might. 

"I'm guarding Lord Ozai with the Earth Kingdom soldiers," Toph went on, hopping down from her pillar. "It's harder to break out of handcuffs if there's no lock. I figured I'd drop by since I have some time. This place is pretty spiffy, even if the security sucks."

"Katara said it was too dark," Zuko said before remembering who he was talking to.

"That sounds like a her problem," said Toph cheerfully. "Got any food? I'm starving."

"Yeah, sure," Zuko said automatically. It was feeling a little like deja vu. He eyed the stone sprouting from the marble floors. "Could you, uh, get rid of that?" 

Toph blew a raspberry but bent it back into the ground. "The decor is so boring. You should spice it up a bit."

The walls of the palace were filled with carefully curated art. "My ancestors would be horrified to hear you call all of these priceless cultural artifacts boring," Zuko said, dry, and took her to the kitchens.

Toph hopped onto the counter, bare feet and all, and flopped back with a sigh. “So, what’re you gonna make me?”

“Me?” Zuko said, half amused. 

Toph pulled her lower eyelid down. “Did you think I was going to do the cooking?” She paused and added, very emphatically, “I am _not_ vegetarian.”

Zuko snorted, rummaging through the drawers. He only had time to draw out a carving knife before the front doors of the palace slammed open in the distance. He stiffened, grip tightening on the knife.

"Prince Zuko. Prince Zuko!" came a distant shout, and running footsteps approached. 

"Oh, yeah," Toph said thoughtfully. She hadn't so much as twitched. "I wasn't exactly sneaky when I came here."

Zuko pinched the bridge of his nose. "How hard did you hit them?" 

Toph shrugged. "They'll live. Bunch of crybabies."

“Prince Zuko!”

Zuko turned with an instinctive glower, as the guard burst through the doors to the kitchen. Wariness rapidly replaced the relief on the guardsman’s face.

“Prince Zuko, I’m so sorry to disturb you, but there’s a scruffy delinquent girl on the loose!” the guard panted. “She snuck past the perimeter, we think she might be trying to assassinate -- ” Zuko shifted, setting the knife down, and the guard froze as he caught a glance of Toph sprawled on the counter behind him. “You!” he exclaimed, jabbing a finger at her as he bent a fistful of fire in the other hand. “You filthy, sewer-pipe elephant rat -- ”

"Show the Lady Beifong some respect," Zuko rebuked sharply. 

The guard paused and extinguished his fire, visibly confused, and glanced around for someone who seemed to be a lady. None appeared. Toph leered at him from her perch on the counter.

“My -- my apologies, Prince Zuko, L...Lady Beifong,” the guardsman stuttered, and checked over his shoulder like the real Lady Beifong might be hiding in the spice cabinet. 

“What’s your name?” Zuko asked. He was pretty sure this one was of a somewhat higher rank than the rest.

The guard turned back with a look like an antelope fox in the torchlight. “M-me, sir? I’m -- I’m Hao.”

“Guardsman Hao,” Zuko repeated. “Lady Toph Beifong is here on my invitation. Though if she were an assassin, I’m sure I don’t need to tell you how your response was.”

"Terrible," Toph chipped in helpfully. 

“It was a slight oversight,” Guardsman Hao protested. “It won’t happen again, Prince Zuko.”

Zuko opened his mouth to mention the two -- three -- maybe five assassination attempts that he’d been promised ‘wouldn’t happen again’, but Toph beat him to it. “You guys are pretty useless,” she said, leaning back against the counter. “A flock of turkey ducks could get past you.”

Guardsman Hao drew himself up in affront. "Nonsense! The Royal Guard is professional, disciplined, highly trained -- "

Toph cut him off. "I said I was here to kill Prince Zuko and one guy said, 'He's that way.' He might have pointed too, but I wouldn't know. I put him under a rock."

"I -- under a rock," Guardsman Hao repeated faintly. 

"Yup," Toph drawled. "For safekeeping."

Zuko took a breath and hoped Toph wouldn't mind too much when he said, "Lady Beifong will be conducting training for the Royal Guard while she's here. You'll report to her."

"She will?" stammered Guardsman Hao.

"I will?" Toph demanded with rising glee. 

“Prince Zuko, this is a child! She cannot train our recruits, let alone fully fledged elite soldiers!” Guardsman Hao protested. Toph crossed her arms and smirked.

"She is the Avatar’s earthbending master. You and your guards have already underestimated her once," Zuko pointed out. "I trust you won't repeat that mistake again so quickly. Summon the rest of the guard for morning -- "

“Afternoon,” Toph muttered under her breath.

“ -- late morning training tomorrow,” Zuko amended. Before he could protest, Zuko added, "You can go."

"I -- yes, Prince Zuko," said Guardsman Hao, and made a hasty retreat for the door, still looking faintly stunned.

As soon as the doors clicked shut around him, Toph turned on Zuko. "Do I really get to train them?" she asked eagerly. 

"I should have asked you first," Zuko admitted. "You don't have to -- "

"Zuko," Toph said very seriously. "This is the best welcome present anyone has ever given me. Do not ruin this for me right now."

"Okay," said Zuko, nonplussed, and went back to rifling through the kitchen. "How does fire-roasted chicken with rice sound?"

"Fine by me," said Toph. "What're you gonna put on the chicken?"

Zuko paused. "Fire flakes?"

"Ugh," Toph groaned. "You have no taste."

Zuko scowled. "Fire flakes are a traditional part of Fire Nation cuisine -- "

"Yeah, yeah," Toph interrupted. "Point me towards the spices, Sparky. I'll handle this."

Zuko gave her a metal bowl and set her loose on the spices. Meanwhile, he started the rice steaming and prepared the chicken. By the time the chicken was skewered and ready, Toph had mixed a bowl of spices for seasoning. That wasn't the only thing she had mixed. 

"The lids were labelled," Zuko said, staring at the now-unmarked bottles of spices scattered on the table and the pile of lids cluttered at the side. 

"Sounds like a bad design choice to me," said Toph after a pause. 

"Can you...match them back by smell?" Zuko asked doubtfully.

Toph scoffed. "What am I, a shirshu? I just know what smells good together."

"Right," said Zuko, and hoped the kitchen staff wouldn't hate him too much when they got back. 

Over rice with spicy preserved cabbage and slightly charred chicken, Toph asked, "Are you going to see him?"

"Huh?" Zuko said, half his attention on not dropping his skewers. 

"Lord Ozai," said Toph around her mouthful of rice. "Prisoner transfer's supposed to be this afternoon. Aren't you going?"

Zuko most definitely did not want to see his father, in a public setting or otherwise. He also knew, having grown up a prince, that his duties had little to do with what he wanted. He scrubbed his hand through his hair. "Yeah," he said. "I'm going."

"Great," said Toph, and like Zuko wasn't presiding over the whole wretched thing, added, "You can stand next to me. I get bored during these things."

"Uh, sure," said Zuko, but inwardly he breathed a sigh of relief. His people needed to see him strong and certain, especially in the face of his father. Toph might be small, but she was unbreakable, unshakable, and maybe it was okay for Zuko to borrow that for a little while. 

Toph didn't stay long. After three days of tormenting the Royal Guard and forcing Zuko to cook fairly regular, balanced meals, she left for the Beifong estate, presumably to prove to her parents that she hadn't died yet and that she was, in fact, the greatest earthbender in the world. Without her constant, somewhat prickly presence, Zuko fell back into the endless routine of council meetings, briefings, and sleep, with the occasional slapdash dinner or assassination attempt for some variety. 

The Fire Nation was coming back together. The day before the official release of the highest-profile war prisoners at the port of the First Lord’s Harbour, Zuko donned a plain cloak and slipped out of the palace to look out over the empty docks where the transport ship would dock. The sun burned low over the ocean, turning the waves scarlet and gold, and he took a steadying breath of the salt-sticky air. Here he could breathe; here, away from the palace and its stifling emptiness and openness, he allowed some of his weariness to surface.

“I didn’t expect to see you out here.”

Zuko turned before he recognized the voice, straightening, but relaxed again when he met warm eyes. “Oh,” he said, lame. “Suki. Hi.”

Suki tipped him a smile, leaning her elbows on the nearest post before looking out past him to the sunrise. “It’s beautiful,” she said. “Our sunsets look like this, too. Molten gold instead of water.”

Zuko remembered, vaguely, seeing Suki’s name on the list of Earth Kingdom diplomats invited to the Capital City for peace talks, but those weren’t until next week at least. “What’re you doing here?” he asked. “Not that you’re not welcome.”

Suki’s smile turned wry. “The rest of the Kyoshi Warriors who were incarcerated,” she said. “They’ll get here tomorrow, right?”

Zuko was...dumb. Zuko was tired. Of course the leader of the Kyoshi Warriors would want to welcome back the rest of her team. “Oh. Yeah,” he said. “Do you, uh, need a place to stay? I have -- ”

At that moment, Zuko became aware of a crescendoing drone in the distance, approaching fast, that sounded a lot like, _“ -- sukisukisukisukisukisukisukisuki!”_ He realized that was exactly what it was when Sokka appeared out of a literal dust cloud and launched himself at Suki in a flurry of blue cloth.

Suki laughed and staggered backwards but didn’t fall as she caught Sokka and swung him around, dangerously close to the edge of the dock. "Sokka!"

"Suki, I missed you!" Sokka cried, finding his feet again. "Hey there, Zuko."

Zuko raised a hand in a limp wave, not quite sure if the sleep deprivation had finally caught up to him in the form of vivid hallucinations. "Hey."

"Sokka, it's been thirty minutes since you saw me, not thirty days," Suki admonished with no real bite. 

"I know, but I missed you," Sokka beamed. Nauseating. 

"Thirty minutes?" Zuko repeated. To Sokka, he said, "I didn't know you were coming." Good thing joining Aang’s side had prepared him enough that the unexpected wasn't surprising. 

"I know, right?" Sokka agreed. “I didn’t either!” 

“Sokka’s the diplomatic representative for the Southern Water Tribe for the peace talks,” Suki added before Zuko could get too confused or Sokka too distracted. 

“Oh,” said Zuko, combing back through his memory. He was pretty sure the Southern Water Tribe ambassador had been some guy named Batu or something. 

“It turns out everyone else is sick of the Fire Nation,” Sokka said brightly. “But I figured I could visit Suki! And you.”

“Sokka was chosen by the Southern Water Tribe’s council to represent them in the coming talks,” Suki intervened again, nudging Sokka with her shoulder. “It’s a really big honour.” 

“Yeah! That,” said Sokka, clearly preoccupied with staring at Suki. 

Suki cleared her throat. “Also,” she said, just a little wry, “I got a message from Toph. Something about your guards being…‘dunderheads.’ She said you might need someone to watch your back.”

Zuko straightened instinctively. “It’s nothing I can’t handle,” he said. “The Royal Guards are still getting used to -- ”

“Bull,” Suki cut in firmly. “You look like a sky bison rolled over on you, and that’s unacceptable. My girls and I will show them how it’s done.”

Zuko had spent so much time stubbornly standing his ground in front of his generals and ministers and advisors that it was almost a relief to capitulate. “You two may as well come stay with me,” he said. “The Water Tribe and Earth Kingdom Embassies are in different buildings.”

“Oh, I’m not staying at the -- ouch!” Sokka yelped when Suki jabbed an elbow into his ribs.

“We’d love to,” Suki said sweetly with a practiced smile. 

A skeleton crew of one cook and two housekeepers had been vetted to return to work at the palace. Zuko hadn’t actually seen them, but they left behind signs of their presence -- swept floors, new candles in the lamps, replenished food supplies. 

Zuko, who hadn't planned to eat lunch let alone breakfast, said, “If you’re hungry, there might be, uh...” he trailed off, because he didn’t actually know what food there might be. “...eggs?” 

Sokka and Suki exchanged a look. “I got this,” Sokka said, marching off down the hall. “Wait here, Suki, I’m gonna make the best omelets in the world.”

“The kitchen’s the other way,” Zuko called after him. 

“I knew that!” Sokka yelled, doing an abrupt about-face. “I was just testing you!”

Suki sighed, propping her hands on her hips and watching him go with unmistakable fondness. Zuko resisted the urge to stuff his hands in his pockets and glanced awkwardly down the hall. 

Silence.

Suki looked at Zuko. Zuko looked at Suki.

"Want to spar?" Suki offered.

"Yes," said Zuko, greatly relieved. 

Zuko had been trained to fight from a young age, and in that he saw in Suki a kindred spirit. She carried herself like a warrior, both in mind and in body, and her eyes reflected the same restlessness that he felt. And fifty minutes later, when they were both sore and sweaty, muscles trembling from the force of the blows they had exchanged, the smile she gave him was fierce and satiated. Spotting Sokka at the edge of the courtyard with a dreamy look on his face as he watched them, Zuko lowered his dao blades. Suki furled her tessen with quick snaps of her wrists and replaced them at her waist.

“Good fight,” Suki said, straightening her clothes.

“Yeah,” said Zuko, sheathing his swords. “You too.” 

“Hey, Sokka,” Suki called. “Are you done cooking?”

“Huh?” said Sokka. “Oh, yeah! It’s not really an omelet like you would expect an omelet, you know, but it’s like a _deconstructed_ omelet.”

“Oh, great,” Zuko muttered under his breath.

“I’ll meet you boys there,” Suki said with a smile. “I just need to freshen up a bit.” 

“No problem!” said Sokka, slinging his arm around Zuko’s neck. Zuko lurched under the unexpected weight. “Zuko, buddy. How’ve you been? It feels like it’s been ages!”

It couldn’t have been more than a couple weeks that they’d been sitting around a campfire drawing up the plans to defeat the greatest army in the world, but that time felt infinitely far away. “Yeah,” Zuko said. “I’m fine.”

Sokka narrowed his eyes and twisted, his face uncomfortably close to Zuko’s. “Fine? Katara said the last time she saw you, you weren’t eating. She said she was worried about you.” 

“Katara’s a mother turtleduck,” Zuko deflected, making a token effort to shrug Sokka off. 

“True,” Sokka said, “but I don’t know, man, you’re looking awful skinny.” He poked Zuko in the ribs.

Zuko made a slightly more serious effort to shove Sokka away and failed. “I thought you guys were gonna stay in the South Pole for a bit.” 

“Oh, Katara is,” Sokka agreed, all but dragging Zuko in the direction of the kitchens. “So’s our dad. But I can always go back, you know? And someone’s gotta be here for the peace talks who can keep a level head.”

Zuko would grudgingly admit that Sokka was good for that. He’d much prefer dealing with Sokka than a strange Water Tribe warrior who’d been at war with or imprisoned by the Fire Nation their entire life and hated his guts.

“Also, Katara made me promise to feed you,” added Sokka. “I know, I know! But if I do, that’s one less thing she can nag me about.”

“I have a cook,” Zuko retorted. “I have _many_ cooks.” They weren’t cooking, but that was beside the point. 

“Are you eating?” Sokka shot back. “Yeah, didn’t think so. Come on, man. Think about how embarrassing it would be if you fainted at a council meeting.”

Passing out at a council meeting would be more than embarrassing -- it would be actively disastrous, and probably the last mistake of his life. “I don’t faint,” he snapped, the heat rising to his face. 

“Yeah…” said Sokka, and hid his mouth behind his hand to whisper in Zuko’s ear, even though they were entirely alone, “Katara told me you fell asleep next to a boiling pot.”

Zuko slapped him away irritably, finally managing to get out from under his arm. “That happened once. It was a fluke.” 

“Sure,” Sokka said, shooting finger guns at him. “I’m still gonna make sure you eat.” And somehow, this was another argument Zuko didn’t mind losing. 

Until he actually saw what Sokka had cooked.

“Look, I did my best, but Fire Nation spices are really weird,” Sokka protested when Zuko stared blankly at the pile of eggs scrambled on the plate in front of him. They looked somewhat off in a way Zuko couldn’t put a finger on. “Like, why is your garlic green and leafy? Why is your salt yellow and powdery? I didn’t think parley was spicy.”

With a sinking feeling, Zuko remembered the spice jars that Toph had inadvertently mixed up. “Do you, uh, normally make food like this?”

“No,” Sokka admitted, “but I got this recipe from a restaurant in Ba Sing Se because I tried it and it was amazing! They wrote everything down for me. They said it was okay if I didn’t know what the herbs looked like, and I just have to follow the amounts and everything exactly.”

“Oh,” Zuko said, staring at the eggs. “Did you try it?”

“No, I wanted you to have the first bite,” Sokka said blithely. “Why?” 

“Let’s let Suki try it first,” suggested Zuko.

Having Sokka and Suki in the palace did wonders for Zuko’s nerves, even if he rarely saw them. When Zuko’s irregular schedule kept him from regular meals, Sokka left covered plates for him in the kitchen and snacks in his bedroom, each accompanied by a crude drawing of Zuko eating the foods. Suki, he heard more than he saw, sprinting through the halls and along the rooftops in full Kyoshi warrior regalia as his guards struggled to keep up. After Toph, the Royal Guard hadn’t put up so much of a fight about being trained by someone so young, or a girl. 

Gradually, though, Sokka and Suki were both drawn away from the palace for longer and longer periods of time to prepare with their contingents for the upcoming peace talks in their respective embassies. Most days, Zuko rose alone and went to bed alone.

Some time in the early hours in the morning, Zuko jerked awake at the unmistakable thump of something heavy landing on the roof. He waited a moment, tense, and when he didn’t hear the guards’ footsteps running to check it out, dragged himself out of bed to investigate. 

Somehow, he was unsurprised to find Aang perched on the third floor balcony rail, cross-legged as he looked out over the moonlit city. "Hi, Zuko," he said. 

"Aang," said Zuko, the tension draining out of him all at once. 

Momo chittered from Aang's shoulder, scampering down to the balcony and right through the open door. Zuko didn't bother to stop him.

"Rebuilding is a lot of work," said Aang. "I thought I'd come visit you." He reached into his satchel. "Want a moon peach? I picked them from the orchards outside Ba Sing Se myself."

Zuko accepted the fruit, nonplussed. “How...are things at Ba Sing Se?”

“I think they’re going well,” Aang said, biting into a second moon peach. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “The White Lotus has a very good foundation set up there already. What about you?” 

Honestly, Zuko resented that -- hated that Uncle Iroh hadn’t come back to the Fire Nation, hated that he’d abandoned Zuko to deal with Ozai and Azula by himself. Zuko felt like he was chained to the bottom of a lake, just struggling to stay afloat, while everyone watched from the surface. “Everything’s fine,” he said.

Aang regarded him with wide, thoughtful eyes. “I don’t know, Zuko,” he said. “You’ve been out here trying to fix things all by yourself. That’s not really fair.”

Zuko couldn’t decide whether to laugh or punch something. Since he was born, he’d been swept along by the events that shaped his life -- the war, his mother’s disappearance, his banishment. Until the day he’d turned against his father, he’d never had a say in his own future. Fair wasn’t even in his vocabulary. “No,” he said, short, fighting to keep his voice even, “that doesn’t matter. I’m trying to hold this nation together and half of it doesn’t want me to.”

“Do you think you could take a day off?” Aang suggested. “I think you could use a break.”

“I don’t have time to take a break!” Zuko snapped. He was the _Fire Lord apparent._ He was the last thing between the fragile peace and a Fire Lord Azula. Besides him, very little held the war dogs of the Fire Nation at bay. He couldn’t just drop everything and _take a break_ because he felt a little tired.

Aang considered him without recrimination, and Zuko huffed a short sigh. Trying to yell at Aang was like trying to yell at a turtleduck. He felt mean and guilty and needlessly cruel. “Sorry,” he said abruptly. 

“I don’t mind,” said Aang, which of course made Zuko feel worse. He grinned at Zuko cheekily and added, “but if you feel bad about it, maybe you should take a day to do some important diplomatic negotiations with the Avatar.”

Zuko sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Fine.”

Aang beamed. “Great! You don’t mind if Appa hangs out here, do you?”

Zuko glanced down into the yard, where the sky bison was peacefully browsing the topiary. “That’s...fine.”

Aang was dangerous. And not just because he could obliterate anyone if he felt like it. He trailed Zuko down to the room where the Royal Guard was posted with an amiable air. Zuko rapped on the open door. “Guardsman Hao.” 

Guardsman Hao flinched and whipped around. “Yes, sir,” he stammered, fumbling for his spear and almost dropping it twice. 

Zuko ignored that. “Cancel everything I have on my agenda for today,” he said. “Reschedule it all for tomorrow or later.”

“E-everything?” Guardsman Hao repeated, eyes wide.

‘Everything’ included meetings with the most influential people in the Fire Nation, both civilian and military. “Everything,” Zuko gritted out. 

Guardsman Hao grimaced, likely thinking of having to deal with these not-very-happy influential people. “Can...can I ask why, Prince Zuko?”

Zuko glanced sideways as Aang peeked around him to wave cheerfully. “...important diplomatic negotiations with a potentially hostile force.”

“Right,” said Guardsman Hao, staring at Aang. “I’ll get right on it, Prince Zuko.”

“Okay,” said Zuko, shepherding Aang back down the hall. “What do you want to do, Aang?”

“How about a sleepover?” Aang suggested. When Zuko stared at him, he yawned theatrically and added, “I’m wiped. Appa and I were flying all night, and there’s still a couple hours before dawn.” 

“Sure,” said Zuko. He wouldn’t mind another couple hours’ of sleep. “Uh, if you want, you can have...Azula’s bedroom...or one of the guest rooms. Sokka and Suki are in guest rooms, actually -- ”

“No, no, that’s not a sleepover,” Aang objected. “We gotta be in the same room and pull all the blankets and pillows down to sleep on the floor.”

Zuko’s brain wasn’t awake enough for this. “We have to what?”

“For a sleepover,” said Aang. “We pull all the blankets and pillows down on the floor and make a giant nest and we sleep in that.”

Zuko wasn’t a stranger to sleeping rough, he just didn’t know why anyone would choose to sleep on the floor when there was a perfectly good bed right there. Or why they would share a room when they were at a safe place. Or. He guessed the nation that had been hunting the Avatar for a hundred years wasn’t particularly safe. But still. Maybe it was an Air Nomad thing. “Fine,” he said, resigned. If the servants didn’t hate him before, they certainly would now.

He woke abruptly to sunlight streaming through the cracks in the curtains with the sinking certainty that he was late for an important meeting. He sat bolt upright, wincing at the crink in his neck, and scrambled to get out of bed. 

Except he wasn’t in bed, and that was Aang sprawled loose-limbed and half buried in the tangled blankets just a few feet away. Zuko sank back down. Late night Avatar drop-in. Cancelled meetings. Sleepover. Aang had dropped a massive roadblock on his plans, but Zuko couldn’t bring himself to mind. 

Aang yawned and rolled over. “Morning, Zuko,” he greeted sleepily. “Is it time for breakfast?”

“Yeah,” Zuko said, scrubbing a hand through his hair. “Breakfast. Yeah.”

In the kitchen, they found two covered plates instead of just one, and besides the usual crude stick-Zuko drawing, Sokka had left a note: SUKI AND I RAN INTO APPA OUTSIDE AND I WANTED TO SAY HI TO AANG BUT SUKI SAID TO LET YOU TWO SLEEP. HI AANG! ME AND SUKI BOTH HAVE SUPER BORING MEETINGS ALL DAY BUT WE SHOULD BE BACK BEFORE DINNER. AANG, MAKE SURE ZUKO EATS! KATARA’S ORDERS!

Zuko tried to sweep the note away but Aang was faster, swiping it out from under Zuko’s hands. “‘Make sure Zuko eats?’” he quoted, furrowing his forehead. He looked up at Zuko. “How come I have to tell you to eat?”

“You don’t,” said Zuko, glaring at the note. He was tempted to set it on fire. “Katara’s just a mother turtleduck.” 

“Well, okay,” said Aang with a shrug, letting it slide without a fight. “If Sokka made us food, we may as well eat it before we go out, right?” He opened the lid and might have regretted saying that when he saw the congealed lump that was Sokka’s attempt at chilled noodles in soup. After a moment, he looked up at Zuko with a queasy smile and said, “I’m sure it tastes better than it looks.”

It did not.

"What do you want to do?" Zuko asked, once the noodles were no longer in sight. "There's…" he trailed off, because besides sparring and staring at things that looked pretty, he didn't really know what there was to do in free time. 

"Do you guys have koala sheep here?" Aang asked hopefully. 

"Koala sheep," repeated Zuko, baffled. "Somewhere, probably...yeah."

"I thought we could have a picnic and hang out with the koala sheep for a bit and do some birdwatching," said Aang. "Then, maybe we can go surfing with some flying dolphin fish and have dinner down in the city." 

Zuko wavered. Picnic? Birdwatching? Surfing?

Aang drew himself up, stroking an imaginary beard. "As Avatar, the wellbeing of your native fauna is very important to me," he said seriously. "I should take this opportunity to check on them while we discuss important political things." 

He looked up at Zuko hopefully. Zuko, he sensed not for the last time that day, caved. "Fine," he said. "We'll go find some koala sheep or something."

They found some koala sheep. They were...nice. Zuko surfaced from his inadvertent nap surrounded by placid koala sheep and with the greatest sense of calm he had felt since -- since -- maybe since meeting the dragons. 

Aang, head pillowed on the back of a koala sheep, said, “You know, back in the Air Temple, when someone was going on a long trip, we’d light a candle and keep it burning until they came back.” 

“Cool,” said Zuko, not quite awake yet.

“It was supposed to be a reminder,” Aang continued. “Both for the traveller and for the ones staying behind. ‘We remember you.’ ‘We’re waiting for you.’ ‘Come back home.’ Things like that.”

Zuko wasn’t entirely sure why Aang wanted to talk about candles of all things. “Okay?”

“You don’t feel like you’re home yet,” Aang noted thoughtfully. “You’ve been keeping all these candles lit, but you’re the one still missing.”

“What are you talking about?” said Zuko. “I’m right here. I’ve been here since Sozin’s Comet. I’ve been meeting with my people every day, getting us moving in the right direction after everything my father and grandfather did.” 

“That’s future Fire Lord Zuko,” Aang said, rolling onto his belly to better stare at Zuko. “Not _real_ Zuko.”

“That makes no sense,” retorted Zuko. 

“Future Fire Lord Zuko is lighting all these candles,” said Aang. “He’s making all these preparations because he’s waiting for the real Zuko to come back.”

“Look,” said Zuko, his temper snapping at his cooler head. “Quit it with the riddles, Aang. What are you trying to say?”

Aang frowned at him, which made Zuko feel like a terrible person all over again. “You’ve been working nonstop since we stopped Lord Ozai and Azula. You keep thinking but you’re not feeling.”

 _Feeling?_ “Aang, I have an entire nation to worry about. I don’t have time for -- ”

“You might be about to be the Fire Lord, but you’re a person too,” said Aang, blunt. “If you’re doing all this just because you think you’re supposed to, maybe you shouldn’t do it at all.”

‘Not do it at all’ definitely had never crossed Zuko’s mind. He stared askance at Aang. “What?”

“Fire Lord is a big job,” Aang explained. “Your mind is still conflicted, especially because you had to fight against your father and your sister, so only half of you is really here. You should resolve that first. Iroh will probably be happy to come back and help out for a little,” he added.

“So,” said Zuko after a moment, “you’re saying that I should run away from all my responsibilities if I don’t feel like doing them and leave the Fire Nation to its own devices.”

“Well,” Aang admitted. “I was thinking more like a short road trip.”

Uncle did always say that a job done halfheartedly may as well not have been done at all. Zuko felt the weight of the lives in his hands and admitted that he wasn't giving them his best. Not yet. Aang was right -- something was still missing. 

Zuko sighed, wry, because Avatar or not, Aang was still just twelve years old. “When did you get so wise?”

“I’ve been reincarnated like a billion times,” said Aang with a shrug. “I like to think that at least a little stuck with me.”

It wasn’t the same -- the six of them with Appa and Momo, setting out to travel the Fire Nation. It wouldn’t ever be the same as it was those days when it was them fighting against impossible odds. But it did help. 

Peace: a state of quiet or tranquility; freedom from disturbance or agitation; calm; repose. Zuko was still searching for peace, but at least he didn't have to do it alone.


End file.
